We were in 6th grade working on a pinball machine made out of cardboard with Ben Scuderi. There are two things I remember about this project, there had to be a drop of about a foot and there had to be a theme. Our small group of three had neither a legitimate drop not a legitimate theme. I remember being less than content with the grade (it might have been as bad as a C, you might want to ask Ben) but I can only imagine how upset Austin was about this. I wouldn't blame him if he thought less of me after that, though I doubt he did.
This was my only interaction with him even though I probably saw him everyday either in the hallway, in the dining hall or in the commons. But I will always remember how he looked: a toothpick with jeans that were just a little too short on the ankles.
He was the smart kid. When we say that, it actually means a lot more since "everyone at Academy is smart."
Looking at pictures of him recently, I can see that Austin was growing up to become a respectable, intelligent young man. Though I will always remember him by the style of jeans he wore, giving me a high five after successfully assembling some cardboard scraps we three called a pinball machine.
This was my only interaction with him even though I probably saw him everyday either in the hallway, in the dining hall or in the commons. But I will always remember how he looked: a toothpick with jeans that were just a little too short on the ankles.
He was the smart kid. When we say that, it actually means a lot more since "everyone at Academy is smart."
Looking at pictures of him recently, I can see that Austin was growing up to become a respectable, intelligent young man. Though I will always remember him by the style of jeans he wore, giving me a high five after successfully assembling some cardboard scraps we three called a pinball machine.
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